Born and Bred
by fantasyfaery
Summary: After the attack on James and Lily Potter, Lucius spirits Voldemort away to a safe haven and suggest they take in baby Harry instead of kill him.
1. Introduction

**Born and Bred**

**_Introduction_**

**_Rating for this chapter: _**R violence, mention of non-consensual sexual relations

**_Pairings for this chapter: _**mention of Lucius/Sirius, mention of Voldemort/Lily (non-con)

**_Summary for this chapter: _**After the attack on James and Lily Potter, Lucius spirits Voldemort away to a safe haven and suggest they take in baby Harry instead of kill him.

**_Disclaimer;_** Naturally, the characters do not belong to me. They are created by the literary genius, Rowlings, if you did not know, or are by chance visiting from another planet. And I am not making money from this or else I would not be sitting at home on my computer typing endless (though I really do love to do it) because I cannot afford the ghastly gas prices of Southern GA, therefore making travel hideously expensive and undoable.

" My Lord, perhaps we should embrace the situation?" Lucius Malfoy began cautiously. The man sitting hunched, in the chair by the fire shivered with discontent. Blistering red eyes narrowed into slits.

"Pray tell, what exactly do we have to…embrace about this situation?" came the rasping, venomous hiss. Red eyes focused on Lucius waiting ever so patiently for his proposition.

"It was here in this very room that you taught me the proper respect for power, my Lord. Did you not?" Only when his companion acceded did Lucius brave on. "Where or how the babe got his power, I've no idea, just like everyone else, but I do know he possess a great deal-"

"Oh! Get on with it Malfoy! I am well aware of the power that infant possessed, it's the reason I am incapacitated at the moment!"

"Of course, forgive me," Lucius apologized immediately. " I suggest we don't make it our mission to kill that power, yes, it could be a threat , but this is what I propose. Children, my Lord are malleable creatures, you mold them into what they will become. Imagine if we were to…make that power our own? Spirit the boy away? That, of course, being the most difficult part of this idea…"

"Wait, Lucius, you want to bring this ….foul child into my haven!" Voldemort wheezed in agitation, fidgeting restlessly.

"Yes, I know it sounds crazy, even desperate, but think sir, of what that boy may become in ten years. He could be an army of Death eaters all on his own. The power, his power is already astounding. If we were to teach him, this war would be through, why do you think they have snapped him up so quickly. The prophecy, he will be equal your strength, maybe even more so. Better to harness that than let it go to waste."

" Yes, it does sound like a brilliant plan, but dearest, there is the slight problem that I killed his parents. If he were to find out then I would in a most unpleasant position, now wouldn't I."

" Perhaps, but perhaps not if we twist the truth a bit. Give him the story, but feed it through our perspective. Give him a life he'll never have with those filthy Muggles. Did you know that they'll keep him in a hamper in the cupboard? Camellias, has foreseen it. My Lord he is a Prince among our kind. And you a King. Perhaps its time to make a heir my Lord. Make him your son. Make him you hammer. Let him be your Prince, successor to our throne."

"Hmmm…your ideas are as seductive as ever in light of our tragedy, dear Lucius. Let me think on it a night. Only a night, though. We must act in haste."

"Yes, my Lord. Before they send him to the Muggles," Lucius agreed with a wicked smile, knowing the decision already made. "Shall I meet you here tomorrow, same time."

"Yes, but be cautious and wise,. You are my most faithful servant, Lucius, I would hate to lose you."

"As you wish. All will be righted Tom, I will see to it if it kills me. They will pay. And we will use their own hand to do it." Lucius bent to kiss a withered cheek, then stood and promptly apparated.

* * *

"Our intelligence tells us that Malfoy was seen at the old Riddle place last night, "Lupin reported stoically. Carefully he studied the reaction from the elderly wizard in front of him. Normally the man would be exuberant, all knowing, playful, as some had deemed him. Today he was withered and wilted, and seemed to hover in some distant plane. He had known them better than most. They had all known them. They were closely enough knitted to be considered family. And another member like those before them had been brutally slain in the act of buying freedom from unappreciative peers.

Today the man showed no signs of acknowledgment. His eyes stared straight through Remus as though he were not even there at all. He had loved the young Potter couple as if they had been his own.

"Albus? Albus, are you alright?"

"Oh? You were saying? Forgive me Remus. These are troubling times. I can't but help but wonder if this could have all been avoided somehow. Perhaps if I had been the Keeper. I just can't fathom Sirius' betrayal. It's not plausible. He loved James like a brother."

"Funny what lusting for power can do to perfectly normal people. Should have expected it really. The rest of his family was no good, " Lupin growled.

"Let's not point fingers till we located him, Remus. Things aren't always as they seem."

"Do you believe it's really over this time?"

Albus rose and hobbled to the window, looking out over the Quidditch Pitch with that heartbreakingly forlorn look. "Only time can tell." In the background a child wailed restlessly. He turned to stare at the babe. Wispy black hair framed a puckered red face. Green eyes glittered behind tears. "I pray that this is finished for your sake, young Harry."

In response the baby's tiny face screwed up and he began to squall anew.

"Where is he going to go? " Remus asked curiously, watching as Albus calmed his cries with a shower of harmless sparkles.

"Hmmm…that indeed is a good question, to which I must not answer. I am sorry Remus. No one must know. This I must bear, it is my responsibility."

"I understand, Albus…" Remus didn't exactly but he trusted Dumbledore in anything. "Excuse me Headmaster, I have business to attend to, "Remus informed, backing towards the door. He stopped momentarily, turning back to face the old man who was the father he never had. " Remember Albus, we miss them to…we share this burden."

"Yes, Remus. I know…Are you going to find Sirius now?"

Remus chuckled sadly and stepped onto the rotating staircase.

* * *

"Tell us where they plan on taking the boy Sirius!" Severus hissed, potion poised precariously over Black's parted lips.

"Fuck you!"

"Intelligent as always I see." Snape grinned nastily. "There are two ways we can go about this my dear old friend and cousin. One you can tell me what you know that could be of some use in locating the Potter boy, or, two, I force you to tell me anyway. I have a wide range of potions much more effective than Veritaserum, and quite a few of them I have…improved upon. Nevertheless, we will find the boy." Another twisted, oily, grin, and Snape stalked away to the cupboards menacingly. Sirius could hear the bastard whistling a happy tune. The son-of-a-bitch!

Snape worked merrily on gathering some of his more sinister truth potions. After all someone had to pay for the humiliation he had suffered at the hands of the Mauraders. Who better than the right hand of their late leader, one James Potter? Yes, the man was his cousin, but had that stopped him from torment the ever studious Snape? Was knowledge so hideous a thing? Snape asked himself. Why of course not, that was why he was sorting through the potions and Sirius was strapped to the chair. Lucky that Snape had been there to volunteer for this particular mission.

"You're sick, you know that right?" Sirius chuckled suddenly. Always so damn cocky. That, Snape, would make sure to change. He strode to the chair with a vial that positively radiated evil purpose. "Dearest cousin, do you know what this does?"

"Nope, but I am positive you are about to inform me."

Snape trembled with growing rage. "Why of course. We must not leave you in the dark. This, Black, is somewhat akin to Veriaserum, only thing is you'll die once you are finished re-hashing every single memory contained in the simple brain of yours. I like to refer to it as the liquid form of the Unforgivables. Quite effective, if I do say so myself."

"Ah, shut it Snape! Just get it over with. I am not interested in listening to you wax sentimental about your pathetic potions. You should get laid when we are done here. It relieves tension you know? Only I suggest taking a bath first. Not very many offers looking like that, eh?"

Snape's face had contorted into an ugly mask of rage and his wand pointed directly into the tender flesh at the nape of Sirius' neck, and that was how Lucius found them.

"My, my…Severus? Is this anyway to treat a guest?" came the cold, calculative voice of Lucius. It sent chills slithering through Black.

"Ah! Malfoy! So good of you to join our little party! Snape was just about to kill me. Care to participate?" he ask blandly, though the presence of Lucius affected him same as the old days. Cold grey eyes bored holes into the very marrow of his bones. A corner of that perfectly cultivated mouth quirked at the corner ever so slightly, he imagined.

"Still the same I see. Always make light of rather serious circumstances. How is it that you made it this far in life?" Lucius pondered aloud.

"Beats me. I ask myself the same thing ever day. Guess there are some benefits to flying by the seat of your pants. After all, I am still alive."

"Em, yes. Apparently only because of my perfect sense of timing."

" Yes, I always liked that about you, so prompt, yet still so unpredictable. Unlike my dear sweet cousin."

"Lucius," Snape interrupted almost apologetically. " I have not yet begun to…question him…Is there something Lord Voldemort requires now?"

"Yes, there is as a matter-of-fact. Firstly, he requires that his key informant be well and 'alive'! Secondly, you are relieved of your duty. I will take it Black from here." Lucius informed coolly.

"What-but!" Snape spat anger building again. Lucius was apparently immune to such childish outburst for he merely turned and pinned the man to the wall with that ever icy stare.

"Is something the matter with this Snape? I have been ask by Voldemort himself to take Sirius Black into my custody. You are to go to the school and resume your day job. That is, spying, retrieving information that we can use to further our cause. Understood?"

Snape grimaced and shook his oily head, shooting Black a scorching look. "Yes, of course. I will depart immediately."

"Very good. See to it then." Lucius opened the door and followed Snape's progress down the hall. Then silently he closed it and turned to face Sirius.

"Alone at last. I thought he'd never leave. I was hoping you'd just ravish me here, and scar him for life," he joked.

Lucius allowed him a honest, if small, smile. "Yes, you remain the same. I admire you for that. So many of us have become…different because of this war and it's casualties. It's tragedies."

"Oh, really?" A bark of laughter erupted from Sirius. "You promised James would not be hurt. You lied to me. I kept my part of the bargain but you lied. Why'd you let him take him." The gravity of the situation seem to finally be hitting him. Here, now, and in front of this traitor. James was gone, Lily, was gone…their little toddler Harry. All for the pleasure of a mad man.

"It's not like that and you know it," Lucius replied softly.

"You stay the hell out of my head!" Sirius roared, straining at his bonds.

"Please, Sirius. He was not supposed to be there! I didn't know until it was too late! He went for Tom, but Tom beat him to the punch. We only meant to take Lily."

Sirius roared again, mainly because the pain had become overwhelming. Here stood the man that had allowed a lunatic to murder his best friend and his baby, and all he wanted was to be caught up in that man's strong arms and carried away from it all. To be held and comforted by him again. But things were different now, and it would never be the same."

"I won't tell you where they will take him!" He snorted stubbornly.

"You must."

"Oh, really. Why should I go and do a thing like that? This is the only way to redeem myself to James. My life for his son's. You'll have to kill me, too. I am sure it won't be too difficult for a man of your caliber."

Lucius stood and sighed patiently. "Listen to me first, Sirius. Give me a chance to explain. You say you want to keep the boy safe?"

"No shit, took the words right out of my mouth, after the fact that I already said it."

"Listen, damn you! You only have one last chance to keep the boy safe and dying will not be of help to him I assure you." Lucius weighed his words cautiously before he allowed them to flow from his mouth gracefully.

"What are you talking about?" Black probed, allowing himself to take the bait just as cautiously.

"I have convinced Voldemort that…that he should raise the boy." Lucius decided to be forthright. It might take extra convincing but Sirius would buy it easier.

"WHAT!" Sirius screeched. "Are you out of your fucking mind! If I know that bastard he's positively fuming that a mere baby could debilitate him in the manner that happened, and you suggest that he should just raise him and get over it!"

"Listen, damn you. I don't have much time to get this through to you. Voldemort, perhaps Tom has gone a bit off the deep end, as you so delicately refer to it. But he respects power as much as any Malfoy, and I have a hunch that our dear Harry Potter is destined for great things. He is positively brimming with power, and that fact alone not even Tom can deny.

Now if he goes to live with that Muggle family, it has been foreseen that he will suffer greatly for their ignorance and fear of things they cannot grasp. He will grow up alone, bitter, neglected, then your precious Dumbledore will use him as a weapon, kill Voldemort, then the boy's purpose is done. They will forget him, and he will die unloved and alone.

Tom on the other hand can raise him. Like a Prince. He will be the Ultimate Enforcer, yes, a weapon to be wielded, but he will never be unloved, neglected. He will never won't for anything."

"Fuck you. Once Voldemort gets what he wants, whose to say he doesn't turn on Harry anyway, just to use him as an example?"

"Who is to say he will defeat Voldemort in that fated final battle anyway? This way it will be avoided completely. Voldemort has long for a everlasting legacy. If not immortality, he will survive by blood. He will claim Harry one way or another, but this way it will be easier for us, and easier on the boy. Which will you have? The boy needs some true connection to his past. You are the only link left. Join us. Save the boy a world of heartbreak. Keep him safe."

Sirius was silent, logic echoing maddeningly in his head. Damn but Lucius was good at his job. He remained silent though.

"I will say no more on it. Time is of the utmost importance. You have twenty four hours to make your decision." Lucius turned to leave after freeing Sirius from his binding with a wave of his wand.

"Wait…"Sirius called reluctantly, his surrender settling over his shoulders like a heavy cloak. He glared at the man that had his back turn to him so trustingly after all he had done.

"You swear to me…on your life. No harm shall come to him."

Lucius inclined his head. "You have my word, on the Malfoy name." He smiled then. "For what it's worth to you."

* * *

"Everything is in place, my Lord. Sirius has agreed. I have told him of the conditions, and taken his. Now we can begin the final act."

Voldemort Shifted in his chair and turned his withered face to the fire. "Very good. Tonight then. We'll take him tonight. Steal him right from under their foolish noses," he cackled. "And I shall be a father. Humph…I like the sound of that."

Lucius laughed merrily. "Yes, we shall start a family. With or without Lily. But perhaps the child really is yours anyhow, Tom. You and Lily were 'together' right after they married, were you not?"

"Hmm..yes you are right. I had forgotten. We collected the first sample, that night I raped her." Voldemort chuckled again. "Almost exactly a year ago. Very interesting. My son-to-be may very well be my son. How coincidental." Voldemort stared at Lucius through those blood-red eyes. "Tonight. Bring me 'my' son tonight."

* * *

"They are keeping him in the old Defense Against The Dark Arts Room. The office," Snape whispered to the shrouded figure before him. "He's got three guards. Mad Eye Moody is guarding the hall door. They have Remus Lupin at the office door, and Molly Weasley is staying with the child."

"Take care of Moody. He'll trust you enough to get up close. I'll take care of Lupin and Weasley," the figure ordered before dissolving into the shadows and disappearing.

Snape grunted and turned sharply on his heels heading down to the DADA classroom.

* * *

Moody dropped to the ground in a dusty heap, a foul green potion dripping from his gaping mouth. Snape grinned in pride. He never heard those two deadly words issued by the shrouded speaker. Lucius detached himself from the shadows and stepped over the two motionless forms. He pushed the door in front of him open. Lupin snapped awake instantly but he was down with a word.

Lucius pulled the hood tighter about his head and continued up the short staircase to the DADA office. Carefully he turned the knob and pushed forward. Molly was fast asleep and snoring faintly. Beside her, sitting upright in the makeshift crib, baby Harry focused on Lucius with curious emerald eyes. He pointed a chubby finger at him and cooed softly.

Lucius approached quietly and stood before him. He put a finger to his lips as if the toddler could even understand this simplest of gestures. It seemed he did, for though his eyes seemed to twinkle with mirth, he remained silent, smile spread across those ruddy cheeks.

Lucius lifted him gentle from the bed and turned. He pulled at the silver chain around his neck and felt for the golden key at the end. He held it in his hand and focused on his next destination. Then he closed his eyes. When he re-opened them he was there, babe in arms, Voldemort smiling down on him.

"That was almost too easy," Lucius chuckled to himself. "They should really be ashamed of themselves to lose such an important player in this game of ours. Well, on the Weasley's head it falls, eh."

Baby Harry bounced in his arms and babbled. A pudgy fist rose and twined into pale blonde hair. Lucius heart warmed. "Yes, I think he'll fit right in. My Lord I am sure you will be pleased."


	2. Chapter One

**Author Notes: **Just some scary Harry and a little fluff in this chapter. I'm not quite sure were this is going because frankly Harry just really isn't a bad guy. Though I haven't really decided whether he's going to the next Prince of Darkness, I think I just may swing that way anyway. The challenge of writing a convincingly dark Harry has me all tied in knots, and though I haven't gotten far, it's been so fun getting everybody's ideas and input. Besides, everyone has a dark side. The most difficult thing is making Voldemort into a loving father when I really do not like him to begin with. But hey, it's one of those "what if?" things.

Hopefully the chapters will get longer and more indepth as I figure out how to work all this into writing. Till then hopefully you can stick with me. Thanks to LaLa, Mel and Bastian for keeping me motivated.

**Disclaimer: **You know how it goes. All characters created by J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money on this , and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended

**Born and Bred**

_**Chapter One**_

Harry was a very agreeable baby. He was precocious, quiet, observant, in his darker moods. In his happier moments he was bubbly, chatty, and exuberant. And he took to Voldemort like the man had birthed him himself. Life was wonderful indeed at Malfoy Manor, where currently they were sequestered in a hidden wing in the pit of the house.

Voldemort, though quite unaccustomed to the dealings of parenthood took to it like a duck to water. He reveled in the pure worship of a child to it's parent. He would hold the child on his lap during meetings, sit for hours watching Harry totter around on unsteady feet, read aloud though, Harry could not possibly understand, whatever tome had captured his fancy. Lucius of late often found the withered Lord hidden in the shadows by Harry's bedside at night, watching in fascination the tiny chest that rose and fell. It seemed he had been captured by the pure spirit of childhood, a blessed childhood, so unlike the one he had had. It was almost like he were in love.

Lucius had never heard Tom speak of love. Tom respected, Tom, admired, Tom was even fond of a select few. Never had he loved though. That emotion he had turned off long ago for it made one vulnerable. But that was exactly what Lucius caught glimmering in those monstrous red eyes. The same love Lucius had for his own young heir, Draco.

Perhaps it was for the best, something to distract Voldemort from his machinations, and allow Tom to surface occasionally. It would do him good to fall in love. Perhaps then he'd learn the worth of life somewhat, or at least the benefit of appreciation.

Ah, to hope.

* * *

The years passed quickly, and with surprisingly few difficulties, despite a few Auror raids. The general populace, including the Ministry of Magic believed baby Potter, The Boy That Lived, had become The Boy That Lived to be Kidnapped and Murdered. Soon the happy toddler had grown to a five foot, inquisitive ten year old. He had grown quieter, quite darker in nature than any of them had expected. He studied his surroundings with sharp green eyes that seemed to catch everything and store it for later use. He was making them very proud indeed.

And not just in his magical proficiency, but that was another matter entirely. The boy picked up on magic quicker than anyone Lucius had ever seen. He was born to it, and it was more than just in his blood. He was it. Harry Potter was pure untapped power. And he knew it.

* * *

"Draco," he reply quietly over the dinner table.

"Hmm..?"

He sighed. "Let's go to the pool after dinner." It was more a command than question.

Draco wrinkled his nose. "Say the magic word.."

Harry grinned darkly. "Which one? Crucio? Or perhaps Imperius?"

"Dad, tell him to quit it! He's doing that thing that makes my skin crawl!"

"Harry, are you doing that 'thing' that makes my son's skin crawl?"

"I have no idea what your brat is even talking about." Harry grins at Lucius over his book.

I grin back caught up in the spirit of the game. Voldemort sighs long-suffering. Draco wails in disgust.

"You can't take 'his' side over mine! Your 'my' father!" Draco whined.

"Whining gets you nowhere, Drake," Harry teases affectionately. "Right Father?" He looks to Tom, who is pretending not to beam like he always does when Harry calls him father.

"Very right, my son, but why?"

"Because you have to take what you want," Harry murmurs around the rim of his glass. He peers into it, an odd look on his face. "Like you took my mother?" He asked the question so bluntly that Lucius and Voldemort alike spit their mouthfuls of wine onto the fine, white linen spread. Harry smiles to himself as he watches it spread, a deep crimson stain seeping into the finest threads.

"Whatever are you talking about? Where did you hear that?" Tom asks, breathing harsh and rasping.

"I overheard…It's true isn't it? I heard you tell about how she begged so valiantly for my life, pleaded for you to take her not me. And you did didn't you." He smiled that twisted smile again. "It's like some perverse fairy tale. Hmmm…" He merrily sawed off a sliver of steak and pushed it past his lips.

"Yes, I killed your mother…," Voldemort muttered, visibly shaken. "And her husband…James Potter."

"Was he my biological father?" Harry asked popping a mushroom into his mouth and chewing slowly.

"Yes. We had the proper test done and it showed that he was your real Father. Would you like to see them?"

"No," Harry paused and looked around focusing on Voldemort. "You are my father."

"Harry, do you understand murder?" Lucius pondered aloud.

"Yes…It is a thing that must be done to remove unwanted obstacles from one's goal."

"Perhaps, but do you understands the taking of a human life?"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Life comes and it goes. Does it really matter how? In the grander scheme of things?"

"Hmm…I wonder that myself sometimes, but how would you feel if Draco, or Tom, or I were to be murdered? In the grander scheme of things, of course?"

Harry, the ten year old paused, fork mid-air as if weighing the options of such a statement. "I'd be…I… I'd kill them…All of them." He pursed his lips and stared menacingly at the bit of meat on his fork pure rage flickering in those old eyes of his.

Electricity began to spark in the room. And unseen wind ruffled our hair.

"Calm yourself Harry," Tom murmured. "They are not smart enough to…"

"God Harry! Do you have to be so morbid and creepy?" Draco blurted.

Harry turned to look at him. And then he began to laugh. "So are we going to the pool?"

I met Voldemort's eyes over their heads and smirked.

* * *

"Draco?"

"Hmm, Harry?"

"When I take my Father's place are you going to be my loyal and faithful servant?"

Draco propped himself on his elbow and peered through his pale bangs at the boy across from him. "You are kidding me right. Me, serve a completely creepy prat like you? Yeah right. In your next life maybe," I joked, knowing full well it was exactly the position I was being preen for.

Harry looked at me then, jade eyes piercing me to the core. "But you have to!"

"Why, because you'll tell daddy if I don't?"

"No, because I need someone I know and trust. I need you."

Heartmeltingly cute is not a word, let alone one I would associate with Harry. At fifteen he is dark, seductive, beautiful, charismatic, talented, and so on and so forth but nothing so soft and fluffy. But my heart did this weird hammer, and my chest flipped, and I could barely breathe. Harry loved us, this we knew, but he rarely took it upon himself to notify us.

He came at me then launching himself over my long slender torso and planting himself astride my chest, he peered down at me curiously. "And yes, I'll force you if I have to." He grinned rather darkly and nuzzled my jaw innocently. I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him to lie against me. This was definitely one of the perks of being the right hand man.

Though Harry had had many advances from the time he was nine on up, he had only recently began the descent into the madness that is hormones. I had begun at the tender age of eleven. I was almost giddy with the prospect of being the one to break him in. I had dreamt of it and nothing but it for years now. He just didn't realize the effect he had on anyone. Which is why I was fit to burst but willing to let him make the first move. If he ever got around to it. He can be so slow sometimes. It's positively infuriating!

Harry mutters something into my chest and props himself up on his elbows again, looking down on me like some dark, seductive god of sex. "So will you…?"

"Of course, since you made such a convincing argument."

"Um, Draco, hate to tell you but I didn't start my argument," he smiles teasingly, winding a lock of my long platinum hair around his fingers.

"Shit, so I am a sucker," I groan.

"Yeah, you are. At least that is what I have heard."

I punch him lightly on the shoulder. "You are just jealous. I'd suck you if you would quit acting like a fucking prude. You know I get you all hot and bothered. Don't I? You can admit it."

He just sighs and smiles down on me. "You just don't know do you?"

"Know what?" I ask, bewildered.

"Why would I, a prince among men want something that has been through half the DeathEater Ranks?"

Ouch, leave it to Harry to elevate me so high and knock me down so low in the span of a few minutes. "Was it really necessary to bring that back up, again?"

"I think so." Harry abruptly pulled away and not just physically. He walked to the edge of the pool and stared into the deep green depths. "Why did you?"

"Why did I what Harry? Let all the little guys use my body? Call it an incentive plan. Build the way for the era of Harry. Successfully arranging alliances, like a good sidekick is suppose to."

"Your father does this, too?"

"He use to. It obviously isn't needful anymore. I hear he still does occasionally when someone new in the Ministry needs convincing." Draco plucked at the leaves of some various trailing vine.

"It's awfully…distasteful." He scrunches his nose in that adorable Harry way and glances at me. "I watched sometimes you know?"

"HUHN? You watched! How?"

He laughs at that like it was incredibly funny. "Stupid question Draco."

"Then why?"

He smiles an honest, well meant smile and sits beside me again. "Because they are a disgraceful lot, my father's thugs are. I wanted to make sure they didn't hurt you. Sometimes you remind me of a lily. Some exotic flower that I'd be afraid to touch for fear of making it wilt away. You look so fragile, like moonbeams woven into some ethereal being. Like the fey creatures father use to read to me about." A hand slipped past my face to cradle my cheek in it's warm palm. It was my turn to nuzzle like a contented cat.

"Maybe I look like glass but I am not Harry…Why else would I be following in my father's footsteps? I hope I fill out like my father."

Harry chuckles. "Yeah cause you look like a skinny, pale, shrimp at the moment."

"Hey! What happened to being ethereal, and lily-like?"

"Tender moment passed. I remembered who you are."

"Prat."

"You love me, just admit it," Harry grins.

"Yeah right. You are out of your mind."

"Boys?"

"Father?" I turn and gaze up at the intruder.

"Whatever are you boys up to? Rolling around on the grass and messing your clothes aside," Lucius murmurs.

Harry smiles that beautifully cunning smiling. "Oh nothing… nothing at all."

"Smile yourself silly boy, but I raised you, therefore I know you. And as partial parent to you I am granted immunity to all you wiles. "

"Wiles? What wiles? I possess nothing but mere humanly charm. Charisma, even. But none of these dastardly wiles!"

"Like I said, save the 'charm' for someone who believes you."

"Whatever, " Harry conceded with surprisingly little difficulty. "Were you looking for us specifically, or did you merely stumble upon us?"

"Looking for you specifically. Your father and I have some lessons for the both of you this afternoon, shortly after one. Meet us in the dueling room." Lucius bowed regally and made a silent departure.

"Hmm, I wonder what that was all about?" I look at Harry who is following my father's progress across the sloping lawn back to the mansion.

"No idea, has to be rather interesting considering the secrecy though." Harry mused silently to himself for a short while before emerald eyes returned to me. He cast his typical smirk my way. "Oh, and don't think I did not notice that brilliant but inefficient ploy to change the subject, Draco Malfoy."

"Would it help if I said I was born for you and everything and one else means nothing to me?" I bat my eyes prettily.

"No, you'll have to better than that to prove you above all else deserve my virginity. Being as it is the only innocence in me, I value it as a rather high priced luxury. So you will have to do much better."

"You just want me to suck up to you."

"I can have that any day of the week," Harry returns smoothly standing to his rather impressive height of five foot ten. He takes a moment to brush of the few stray blades of grass before abruptly walking off without another word.


	3. Chapter Two, Part One

**Authors Notes:** Still really have no idea where this story is going though I've have begun getting some rather tempting suggestions. I still think I'm going to try to keep Harry more or less evil, though it's getting harder as the fic progress. I really do not like Voldemort, and though I have grasped the general idea that it would make more sense for him to team up, rather than kill Harry, making it happen it kind of tricky. Any suggestions are welcome. Much thanks to my personal muse Mel.

**Disclaimer:** I am not making any money from this fic. All characters belong to J.K.Rowlings. No copyright infringement is intended from this writing. I would also like to thank Rowlings, in light of the recent controversy, for not suing the pants off little fan fiction writers like myself. I am deeply grateful that she and others like her continue to allow writers to test their imaginations through fan fiction.

**Born and Bred**

_**Chapter Two, Part One**_

"So what do you suppose Father will have us doing?"

"Training most likely," Harry muttered darkly.

"Good thing I decided not to wear my good trousers," Draco moaned, aristocratic nose wrinkling at his surrounds. Father and Tom had apparently decided to change the meeting site last minute, and now here they were tromping around in the dark. Through the forest surrounding Malfoy Manor. It was dark, spooky, and altogether too enchanted. The forest was designed by the founder of the manor, and acted as a deterrent to intruders. There were any numbers of dangers lurking within it's dark bosom. Spells that would render one incapable of remembering their own name. Enchantments that could keep a bypasser dancing till they dropped. The closer to the manor the nastier they became, till loss of limb was inescapable. If you were skilled or lucky enough to get past those, chances were you'd most likely caught the attention of the various species of dark creatures vying for a good meal.

Malfoys and 'visitors' were naturally exempt from this unless otherwise told. Either way, Draco was not very courageous when it came down to things he could not see. It certainly did not help him when Harry looked like a very irritable dark creature himself. One that was very hungry indeed.

Harry, however, seemed unperturbed by his surroundings. In fact, to Draco it was like his dark counterpart was a millions miles away, lost in his own head. Sometimes it seemed Harry's thoughts held far nastier surprises than any creepy forest, or dark creature.

"They're training us to kill people, Draco. I doubt very much that it matters what you are wearing," Harry scowled and quickly fell back silent.

Harry chuckled suddenly, and the mirthless sound sent an arc of fear lancing through the blonde. Draco looked over to see his companion peering at him oddly.

"What?" he mumbled self-consciously.

"You're afraid of me?" Harry questioned, turning away.

"I am not afraid of you!" Draco hissed, taken aback. He really shouldn't be surprised. Harry was amazingly adept at reading even the most close-minded of people.

"Yes, you are," Harry spat, malice lacing his voice.

"I am not afraid of you Harry," Draco murmured. "I am afraid of the way your mind works. You're bloody scary when you go off like that."

"So you are afraid of me then," Harry stated quietly.

"Harry, that's not it and you know it."

"My mind is my own, and you fear it. Therefore, you fear me. Whether we like it or not."

Draco could think of nothing to say, so he merely heaved a sigh and shook his head. He walked ahead a couple of steps before he stopped altogether.

Harry paused shortly after and he turned to look at him patiently. The raven haired boy was none to happy, and Draco could feel the hurt and anger that radiated from him. Somehow he knew he had to soothe Harry before they met his father and Tom. An unhappy Harry was a dangerous thing, and Draco had more than enough scars to prove it.

"I just don't understand you anymore," Draco confessed sadly. "Are you happy Harry? Here with us?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"You hardly ever smile anymore, Harry." Draco moved cautiously toward the boy he'd grown up with.

Harry flinched visibly as if Draco had struck him. "You're talking nonsense, Draco," the boy growled menacingly.

"No, I am not . You know I am not. I have known you all my life Harry Potter, and you have never lied to me. This is what I am taking about. What are you hiding from me? What could possibly be so important that it could create this rift between us?"

Harry stood the mute and resistant, but after a moment he smiled. It was nothing more than a mockery of those blindingly, bright smiles from his past. It made Draco want to tear his hair from his head or at least yell at the boy staring at him impassively.

"You've your father's gift with words," was all Harry said.

Draco felt a shaft of white-hot rage spike through him, before he shook the diversion off and forced himself not to rise to the bait. "Clever, Harry, but you are avoiding the issue."

"There is no issue."

Draco clenched his hands into fist and held himself perfectly still. "There is an issue, or we would not be standing here."

"We would not be standing here if you'd keep moving along," Harry spat venomously. Anger seethed beneath emerald green eyes.

"Oh! Look! Another new aspect of Harry. Mood swings! Four hours ago your were perfectly fine and now you look like you're ready to murder me because I am concerned for your well being! You honestly think I am going to believe that nothing is wrong with you?"

The air seemed to go out of Harry all at once. "Draco," he sighed abruptly. "Just drop it…please."

Draco's companion stared at him so pleadingly he could do nothing but comply. Somewhere in the depths of those jade green eyes he could see Harry looking out at him lost and bleeding. "Fine…for now," he conceded hesitantly. "Just promise me you'll tell me whatever it is soon, Harry. Please."

Harry smiled sadly. "I promise."

An uneasy silence settled in the wake of their brief argument. Draco fidgeted nervously, unsettled by the separation he suddenly felt from Harry. Pulling himself quickly together, he tentatively reached out and offered his hand to his childhood friend.

The raven-haired youth stared at the offered limb, before a small but genuine smile ghosted his lips. He took the hand and squeezed it tightly, before relaxing his hold and turning to the blonde expectantly. "Well, shall we?"

"Let's do. I would hate to hear that lecture on fashionable lateness, and just plain tardiness."

"Merlin, no! If I have to hear you Father wax sentimental on making fashionable entrances one more time I am going to Stupefy myself."

Draco tugged Harry close and wrapped an arm around the boy, before he began to lead them along. Suddenly as quick as the world had spun off it's axis, all was right again.

Simply, because The Boy That Lived threw back his head and laughed. Draco tucked himself against Harry's body and relished the sweet, sexy sound.

* * *

The brief harmony between the two abruptly ended as soon as they stepped through the trees and came into the specified clearing. There were at least a dozen Deatheaters milling around restlessly. Lucius stood beside a raised platform where a fire burned beneath a large cauldron that was emitting a foul green smoke. Voldemort was seated on a throne atop the dias, leafing through a thick tome ,most likely containing nefarious potion recipes.

Harry slid his hand from Draco's and made his way to Lucius' side. "Are we to be initiated tonight?" he murmured quietly.

Lucius looked him over before turning to glance at Voldemort. "Go see Tom. He's waiting for you," was the only answer Harry received.

If Harry felt any fear he showed none, calmly walking up the steps to the steps to pause by Voldemort's side. "Father?"

Voldemort glanced up and snapped the book shut. "You're late Harry."

"My apologies, Father," Harry mumbled moving to sit by the foot of the throne, and resting his head against Tom's leg. His father in turned rested a hand on his head and began to shift through unruly, ebony locks. "Draco and I got in a fight."

"Ah, I see," Voldemort lifted his adopted son's chin in his withered hand. "Should he be punished?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it was just a silly fight. Perhaps we are spending too much time together, and tire more easily of each other. Something like that."

"Well, in that case, maybe I can arrange a short trip somewhere. Just you and me?"

"Wouldn't that be dangerous though? The few still searching for you, happen to be the most powerful of your opposition. Without your guards? No, the manor is safer."

" Nonsense. I have plenty of secure locations and each have full protective measures."

"Well….maybe we could then…" Harry offered a tentative smile to Tom.

"I'll arrange everything tomorrow. Tonight we have more important things to talk worry about."

"Alright," Harry agreed before shifting a bit to observe the cauldron. "By the way, what are we doing tonight?"

"Hmmm… oh! Bonding ritual. The same that Lucius and I went through several years ago.

"Draco and I are to be bonded?" Harry questioned, turning to frown at the silver siren entertaining the group of salivating Deatheaters.

"Does it not suit you? Is there someone else you wish to consider?"

"No, but…do you think he's right for me?"

Voldemort glanced in the direction of Lucius then his son. "Yes, yes I do. He was born and bred for this. Just as you were born and bred to rule beside me. He is the best candidate. Still, do you wish to refuse the ritual, and choose another?"

"No, I just don't want to see him placed in harms way. That's all."

"Do not worry for him, Harry. His father has tutored him well. Besides, he loves you. For this sort of thing that is a very precious commodity. It will serve to heighten his desire to serve and protect you."

"Alright."

"Shall we begin, my son?"

"I suppose. What do I do?"

"You merely accept, the majority of the bonding spell is performed by Draco. You only need to accede to the ritual. You will now when. Other than that, just sit back and enjoy."

Harry smirked and rose to his feet. "I thought this ritual was painful?"

"Only mildly. A pleasurable sort of pain if the bond was meant to be." Voldemort stood and held up a hand.

"And if it wasn't?"

"Don't dwell on the negative Harry. I wouldn't try anything to harm you."

"Like trying to kill me?" Harry muttered wryly.

"Oh! Come off it. Why so morose as of late?"

"Aren't I always?"

"More so than normal."

"Imagine what I'll be like when I'm old like you."

"You'll never get as old as me. I am going to make you immortal." Voldemort was smiling, but his tone was nothing but serious.

"How?"

"That, dear boy, I am working on."

"Interesting."

"Fascinating," Voldemort grinned. Suddenly he turned to the small gathering, hissing one word. "Silence!" he commanded, a serpentine slither up their spines that immediately quieted all in attendance.

As one the Deatheaters turned and formed a loose circle around the diameter or the large altar. They gazed at the two through the slit eyeholes in their masked patiently, obediently. Lucius pushed his way passed the circle with Draco in tow. The man made his way over to where Voldemort stood and took his place to the left and slightly behind the Dark Lord. Draco stepped to the cauldron and glanced at Harry.

Something deep within those silvery depths made Harry nod and move to the opposite side. The blonde pushed his robes from his shoulders and removed his shirt underneath. Harry did the same.

Pale slender arms reached through the thick green fog of the potion and touched Harry gently. "Do you trust me Harry?"

"Yes," Harry answered immediately.

Long-fingered, dainty hands caress Harry's bare chest, leaving in their wake a trail of blazing fire. Underlying all that Harry could feel the fumes from the potion brewing between them. Draco was rubbing the sickly sweet vapors onto him. It couldn't be seen, but Harry could sense it. It's sticky presence was spreading across the expanse of his bared torso, pushing down past the barrier of clothing, and encasing him.

Draco was whispering now, words Harry couldn't recognize but could feel the latent power behind them. They were pulling at the core of him, calling out to the tight coil of magic buried inside of him. It was eliciting responses Harry knew could be dangerous. He caught Draco's hands by the wrists. "Wait-no!"

"Shush, Harry. Don't be afraid…"

"No. Draco!" Harry hissed. "It's too much!"

The fumes cleared momentarily, and Harry caught a glimpse of Draco. The blonde was shaking, sweat glistening along the lithe lines of his stomach and chest. Silver eyes that had nearly gone black stared back at him.

"This is what I was trained for, Harry. Let yourself go. I'll be here to ground you. Trust me…" Draco's voice sounded like it was carrying across much distance, yet still seem to echo loudly in his companion's ear.

Harry himself began to shake with the force of trying to contain the potions effects and the general fear of himself and his family's welfare. Cautiously, he began to let his barriers fall one by one. Then, abruptly the last ones crashed and all his magic swarmed up through and out from him.

The effects were immediate and explosive. A cry ripped from his throat as the power of his own magic, amplified by the innate magic of everything surrounding them, consumed him. The last thing Harry saw was white hot lightning arcing put of his body, and slamming into Draco, as the cauldron between them exploded littering their surroundings with foul green sludge. Then his world went black.


	4. Chapter Two, Part Two

**Authors Notes: **Nothing much to say for this chapter other than it's the ritual from Draco's perspective. Thanks to those of you who reviewed and emailed me. It really does help motivate one to continue on faster. Hopefully I can continue to update at timely pace.

**Disclaimer:** I am not making any money from this fic. All characters belong to J.K.Rowlings. No copyright infringement is intended from this writing. I would also like to thank Rowlings, in light of the recent controversy, for not suing the pants off little fan fiction writers like myself. I am deeply grateful that she and others like her continue to allow writers to test their imaginations through fan fiction.

**Born and Bred**

_**Chapter Two, Part Two**_

* * *

****

Draco had to admit that underneath his enthusiasm about tonight's ritual, he was in fact scared. While he had been trained for this very thing since his magical abilities first made themselves known, he had no idea it would come to this so quickly. Tom and his father had been preparing him for this ritual itself for three years now. He knew precisely what to do and exactly what to expect, but still, he was afraid.

This magic was ancient and powerful. Wild magic without a name, and so very dangerous to both it's participants. It's very purpose was to stir the latent wild magic in Harry and have the boy learn to wield it and channel the excess through Draco. As a side effect it would form an inescapable bond between the two.

Of course, if it went wrong the side effects were much more gruesome. Draco shuddered to think upon those who had failed in the past and had turn up at best insane, malformed, freaks. It would do him no good to think on those things anyhow.

As soon as he stepped up to the bubbling cauldron it's magic reached out to envelope him. It knew his purpose here as readily as he himself did. With a look to Harry, the raven-haired boy seemed to catch his purpose too. He followed Draco and took his place on the opposite side of the simmering cauldron.

Draco slowly slid his hands up the row of buttons that started under his chin and with quick efficiency began to divest himself of his shirt. Draco's focused narrowed to Harry and the chant building inside of him. Pushing through the thick barrier separating them he reached and felt out Harry though he could not see him. Hands working of their own accord he began to trace swirling patterns on the other boy's fair skin.

He sensed the tentative stretch of Harry's magic. Like a serpent raising it's head and unwinding it's slender body. Harry began to tremble and Draco felt the boy's panic building in his own mind. Madness was quickly descending over them both, and it was up to Draco alone to soothe the boy back to sanity.

"Wait-no!"

"Shush, Harry. Don't be afraid…"

"No, Draco! It's too much."

A breeze pushed the potion fumes aside momentarily allowing Draco to see the boy for the first time since they began this. Harry was white and a fine sheen of perspiration had broken out over his skin. His pupils were dilated to the point they seemed to swallow up all the verdant green of his irises, but what did show was shining brightly with magical fervor.

"This is what I was trained for Harry. Let yourself go. I'll be here to ground you."

That seemed to be what the boy needed to hear because after a moment of hesitation Draco began to feel Harry releasing one barrier at a time. Suddenly the boy across from him jerked, eyes flashing jade fire. A shockwave of visible magic spun out from him before arcing up and at Draco, catching him in the chest full force. The cauldron gave a deafening crack and blew apart spreading the sticky, green, slime over the clearing.

White hot pain lanced through him bending him backwards. It burned it's way inside of him seeming to electrify every cell, leaving behind a tingling numbness. Distantly, he heard Harry scream. Draco gazed at him entranced by the runes now burning brightly against Harry's pale chest.

Another surge of power welled at the boy's feet, lifting him from the ground. It was seeking him out now. Racing to him from every aspect of the wildlife surrounding them. From the trees, the lake not far away, the dark creatures nestled in the bosom of this terrible forest, the Deatheaters, even from Draco himself.

A faint 'help me' echoed inside of Draco's mind startling him from his trancelike daze. Harry had passed out at some point, as the magic became more demanding. However, he looked awake to Draco. Awake and something truly frightening.

Across from him Harry hung suspended in mid air, feet dangling about three foot from the ground. His posture resembled something from one of those Christian depictions of the crucifixion. Arms flung out, head lolling around aimlessly on his shoulders. His eyes were the worst of it though. They were dark. So very, very dark. Not a bit of color, not even the whites showing. Just the god awful black, as if his pupils had swallowed up everything else that Draco had loved about those vibrant, green eyes.

Abruptly Harry's head snapped up, eyes focusing on Draco with the burning intensity of someone truly wicked and unstable. It would surprise Draco if this creature across from him had an ounce of humanity. Surely something was wrong. This wasn't supposed to be the outcome of this ritual was it? How could his father and Tom possible expect this from Harry? Was this what they had meant by summoning the true Harry from his shell? Was this the great weapon they were always on about? How could they?

Harry grinned as if he heard Draco silent rant. A sinister, spidery twist of his lips. He moved as if to open his mouth and speak, and a plume of inky black smoke curled from the corner of his parted lips. 'Draco, love…' echoed maddeningly in his mind. A thin, white hand snatched itself from it's invisible bond and reached out in Draco's direction.

Draco moved hesitantly closer to the strange Harry impersonator, stepping across the broke shards of the cauldron. 'Scared?' Came the teasing question when he paused slightly out of reach of the floating abomination. "NO!" he cried out grasping ungently onto the cold hand beckoning to him.

Dark Harry clenched the hand tightly in his pulling his other free to snatch at Draco's blonde tresses. He pulled him up by his second handhold leveling that inky jet stare on the grey orbs glaring at him. 'Such defiance' the creature hissed in his mind. 'Don't you trust me, Draco? Don't you love me? Don't you wish to serve me? Worship me?'

"Harry?" Draco groaned, tugging against the unearthly strength holding him. "Who are you? Where's Harry?"

Dark Harry grinned and rubbed his cheek against Draco's forehead. 'Can't you feel me, Draco. I am Harry. Don't you recognize me? Isn't this what you wanted? Isn't this what you were trained for?'

The mocking words struck me far worse than this Harry's semi-violence could. "Yes, indeed I was," I mumble wryly. A sharpened nail runs gingerly down the side of my jaw silencing me effectively. I stifled my urge to struggle. I had gone through worse technically but never had it involved something so positively demonic as my Dark Harry.

'What's the matter, Draco? Don't you want me still? You use to beg for me. Just today you begged for me…' Another mocking grin. 'Won't you beg for me for old times sake?'

"Say…p..please," Draco gritted out around the pain of the tightening hand in his hair.

Dark Harry's eyes narrowed and his grinned turned into something frighteningly unpleasant. He jerked Draco up by his neck quite suddenly, sharp electric-like pain skittered down the blonde's spine. Dark Harry moved closer till Draco nearly breathed in his magic laced breath. 'How…exciting. Pleasantly feisty, but not over the top. I like it when a slave learns how to play.'

"Not yours…Harry's…" Draco argued, clawing uneventfully at the hand around his neck. He was beginning to feel a bit woozy with the lose of air. "Let go!"

'I should just kill you.'

"You can't…you n..nneed me."

'Oh? Is that so?' Dark Harry laughed and flexed his hand enough to make Draco fear that perhaps he was wrong.

Draco, however, was quite sure about this fact. It was the nature of the ritual. Dark Harry was now stuck with his disobedient pet, Draco thought petulantly. A small measure of him gloated his small victory when his captor tried to squeeze his hand and keep it that way. By some unseen force his hand merely flexed back open and he gave up with a growl.

'There are worse things than death…' he bit out.

"If you are my fate, I suppose you are right," Draco laughed calmly.

Dark Harry scowled before his face relaxed, and he pulled the blonde to him, moving to grasp the smaller boy by his waist. He pressed their bodies together suggestively. 'Well then, what do you suggest I do with you?' He moved his head forward to peer at me with those bottomless eyes.

"Give me back my Harry."

'I am your Harry.'

"No-"

'Yes, Draco. Your Harry. Everything dark and bleak and angry, buried in my soul. This is your Harry. Your true Harry. This is how my power will mold me. Does that make you afraid? Unhappy?'

Draco squeezed his eyes shut and pressed himself to that thin chest. Dark Harry's arms tightened around him. His Harry? This was what his Harry really was? This was that dark, forbidden side his Harry kept hidden from Draco and the others. Was this what made Harry unhappy? Harry himself? It made Draco's mind spin itself in circles. Distantly he was aware of the magic still pulsing around and through the two of them. This was his fate. Well then, he could deal with this. He asked for the answers. Now perhaps, he had them. As unpleasant as they were.

"Call off the magic, I'm tired…Harry."

Dark Harry pursed his lips, before he nodded and close his eyes. Slowly he began to build up his shields, siphoning off the magic swirling around them. They began to sink to the earth. As their feet hit the ground Dark Harry gave a mental push and the rest off the magic drained into Draco, who in turn careful distributed it back were it came from.

The order of nature began to restore itself. The wind died down, dark creatures that Draco hadn't noticed gathering began to slink back into the forest. Owls began to hoot off in the distant. The sudden stillness unnerved Draco. He glanced past the quivering creature that held him ,to his Father. There was a profound look of horrified confusion written there in those familiar aristocratic features. He moved his gazed to the similarly horrified Dark Lord standing in front of his father.

Uncertainty settled in Draco's stomach like a stone. This was obviously not the expected outcome. He traced his steps back through the ritual, suddenly terrified he had made a grave error along the way. He could not remember one. With the exception of the creature he now held, everything had happened as Tom and his father had foretold.

Quickly, before he panicked, he drew in a deep breath and tried to still he thoughts. His hands went up to grasp the thin trembling shoulders before him. Abruptly, Harry collapsed. Draco lowered them to the ground and looked to his father.

"Help me. I'm too weak to carry him."

The man shook his head and started forward, Tom following shortly when he had seemingly gathered his wits. The two men approached almost cautiously, kneeling before the boy only after Draco nodded his head in approval. The blonde leveled them with a calm stare as Lucius hefted the boneless boy into his arms in a protective fashion.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, was it?"

"No," Lucius confirmed quietly.

"Then, what happened?" Draco hissed, anger boiling in his gut.

"I…I'm not sure. This didn't happen at our ritual," he replied, looking to Tom for confirmation.

Draco let out a disgusted huff, and gathered the slime covered clothing from the ruined altar. He snorted again and tossed the clothing to the nearest Deatheater before stomping up the path to where his father was carrying his bond mate towards the house. This had to be the worst night of his life, he mused sourly.

* * *

Draco sat quietly by Harry's bedside waiting for the boy to rouse himself from his slumber. The waiting was getting unbearable. Would Harry wake up Harry, or was Dark Harry all that was left now? Draco shivered against his will. He clenched his hands in the downy comforter, and stifled the helpless scream of frustration gathering in the back of his throat. How could he protect this Harry? When he could barely stomach the site of those eyes the first time?

A soft grunt, and the rustle of silk broke Draco's morose thoughts. He turned and braced himself to meet the gaze he felt resting on him. He lifted his head taking note of the dark smirk. 'Oh, come now, Draco. Why so shy?'

Draco sighed and returned that intense stare. Sure enough those unnatural eyes were staring straight back at him, and the smirk grew into a devilish smile. Draco glanced aside, pushing his hair behind his ears.

"Come now. One would almost think you were disappointed to see me."

The deep, throaty voice made Draco jumped and look back over to his childhood friend. His heart crawled up in his throat when jade gazed back at him. "Harry?" Then he noticed the pupils. Constricted, cat-like pupils. Demon eyes.

"Somewhat better at least?" Harry laughed. Moving to his knees, and holding out his hand. "Come Draco. You can't protect me properly if you can't bare to touch me," Dark Harry taunted.

"I…" Draco searched for something to say but nothing wanted to push past the fog muddling his brain.

Dark Harry sighed and reached out, cold hand clamping around Draco's arm and pulling him roughly onto the bed. "Really, Draco. You're acting like a fucking child," he snarled.

Draco fell across the bed gracelessly, not putting any effort into trying to maintain his dignity. He had a feeling this creature would not particularly care for it in his current mood. Draco merely met his gaze, and kept not resisting. Surely that would calm him.

Harry draped himself casually across his captive. He seemed to be pondering whether or not he intend to eat Draco, but for all the blonde knew, he merely wanted to talk. So Draco kept waiting, tensed for an attack. Readying himself for a verbal spar. Whatever the great unknown that was to come. He, however, was still not prepared for reality.

"I told you, you are afraid of me. Now they're all afraid of me. Even my own father. I would never truly hurt you Draco."

"What about you punishments?" I whispering, thinking on the scars that grace my body. Scars from when Harry couldn't take holding all his darkness in, and needed the sweet release of cutting into smooth alabaster flesh.

"You enjoyed it, Draco. Don't say you didn't. I know when you lie to me."

"Harry," I croaked. "What about when you lied to me Harry? Fine, the punishments I asked for, even begged and craved for, but the secrets? Did you think I would betray you? Did you think I couldn't love this thing you have become? Because I do! I can't just stop! No matter who you are or what you become, I can't make myself hate you! I can't make myself stop craving you! Even if you aren't the Harry I know."

"But I am the Harry-"

"No! You are not my Harry! But I still love you…I can't…Merlin…"

"Shush…Draco," Harry whispered against my brow. "I am your Harry, this is me. It's my own fault you barely know me, but I can't be something I am not anymore. The ritual woke this up Draco. I cannot go back." Harry used his voice and his soft hands to soothe me from my panic. I barely noticed when those hands moved up under the soft silk shirt I had recently donned, and began to rub the tension in my back. I did however notice when a pair of soft moist lips descended down on mine. What was it about something as simple as the soft press of lips that could make you forget all your worries? Forget all your pain. Make you feel so comforted?


	5. Chapter Three

**Authors Notes:** My apologies for the late update. Had some computer trouble. Hope you enjoy though! And it's pretty long too!

**Reading Guide:** '…' mental thoughts between Harry and Draco

…the mental thoughts of one specific character

**Warnings:** Adult language, adult situations (some rather descriptive sexual references, some light petting) and alcohol use (or more like abuse in Draco's case)

**Disclaimer:** I am not making any money from this fic. All characters belong to J.K.Rowlings. No copyright infringement is intended from this writing.

**Born and Bred**

_**Chapter Three**_

Harry stood silently on the veranda peering out at the vast nothingness the darkness surrounding the manor created. It was nearing midnight and the party inside was just beginning to ramble into the drunken stupor it normally affected. This, to Harry, signified that the party would continue well into the wee hours. Harry hated parties. Almost as much as he hated the pathetic morons attending them.

If he got one more sideways glance from some ancient, uncivilized, so-called foreign dignitary he would vomit. Possibly hex them into oblivion. Most likely the latter he surmised, vomiting was so…undignified. A small, somewhat dark grin lifted the corner of his mouth. Really, socializing was not his forte. If he stopped to think about it, as he often did, he was almost too hermetic for his own good. After all, for those of his upbringing and social standing it was expected that he mingled. Under normal circumstances that would be exactly what he would do. Mingle, converse, soak up that which he was not meant to hear (or more precisely what his elders thought he would not understand), show off his pedigree, and then later report everything back to Lucius and his father.

However, Harry was not feeling very cooperative at the moment. Not in the least inclined to do what was expected of him, in the smallest sense. No, Harry felt much like rebelling, and that he did. By hiding out on the veranda? he chided himself, a soft hint of amusement gentling the twisted curve of his smirk. Moreover, talking to yourself like you're a bit off in the head…

Harry turned and surveyed the depressing swirl of somber colors crashing about in the ballroom. He really had no idea there were that many shades of dark purple and red. One color stood out among the rest though, and naturally, he was drawn to it like a moth to a burning flame. Dazzling silver, like a star-studded beacon made specifically for the purpose of luring hapless mortals to their doom. A slash of vibrant red, like blood spilling from a fresh wound. Impeccably tailored, it fit the wearer perfectly, draping his frame in some spots, clinging shamelessly in others. It gave the illusion that one would know precisely what the wearer would look like without them, yet snatching that illusion away when he shifted just the merest fraction. Tantalizing, seductive, mysterious, and so utterly sexy. The sight made Harry's nether regions clench mercilessly.

Draco caught his eye, and smiled his subtle, knowing smile. 'What are you doing out there?' the imp sent down the steadily solidifying bond between them. The tone in that voice was designed to drive Harry mad, and the owner very much knew this.

'Hiding, of course.'

'You really should come mingle. Everybody keeps wondering where Tom's Golden Boy has gotten off to…and who the lucky one to draw him away could be.'

'Oh? Really. What's the current consensus?'

'Me, naturally. Until, that is, I reappeared on my own. Now they're hunting down Blaise Zabini, and that awful Pansy girl.'

Harry snorted. 'That horsey-faced girl, that keeps making gaga eyes at us over the dinner table? Please! I'd rather do that greasy bastard, Barty Crouch Jr.'

'Greasy, yes, but he is rather attractive. Insane, but well…so are you.' Draco turned to acknowledge the waiter serving his party, gracefully accepting a glass of champagne. 'Come inside and suffer these silly fools with me. It's so much fun to get them all rearing to go and watch you verbally dissect them when they are least expecting it.'

Harry sighed and pushed himself away from the thick railing he was previously leaned against. 'I'd really rather not.'

'Do it for me then.'

'What do I get in return?'

Harry watched as Draco burst out laughing, eyes glittering and narrowed with wicked delight. 'What do you want?' he all but purred in Harry's head.

Harry smiled 'I'm sure you'll think of something. You are clever like that.'

'Oh! Sweet Merlin. My poor, little virginal Harry. I would say innocent, but we both know that's not the case. Finally succumbing to the inevitable.'

'What you?' Harry snorted aloud, causing the few other occupants of the veranda to glance at him curiously.

'Hormones. Raging, adolescent hormones. And of course, me too! I'm simply too sexy too resist.'

'You're a fickle creature, Draco Malfoy. Less than a week ago, you were convinced I was some evil demon inhabiting your Harry. You couldn't even look me in the eye, and now you're back to that barely restrained desire to hump me in public. Can't you ever make up your mind?'

At this, Draco pouted and cast an irritated glare in Harry's direction, all the while carrying on the audible conversation on never ending jars of lubricate with some sallow diminutive man beside him. 'I have had my mind made up since birth. You're the prude refusing to easy up and throw me a bone. It's common knowledge that I have the overwhelming desire to fuck your socks off. However, few know that Harry Potter the Great Blushing Virgin doesn't know how to unclench his quivering thighs and let me get his rocks off. 'Draco slammed his delicate crystal champagne flute onto a passing waiter's tray, deftly snatching another, and barely avoiding toppling the poor man. He tossed back the new glass and smile tightly at his companions.

'Furthermore, prude, you're the one blowing hot and cold! One minute you're crawling up my spine the next minute looking disdainfully down on me from your throne. You want to fuck me Potter! Just admit it and get over it. You'd probably like to fuck me right here in front of all these people, wouldn't you? Show them who I belong to right?' Draco released an anguished sigh and tossed his glass to the girl behind him, vying for his attention.

Harry was so blown away momentarily that for once he had no witty retort. It was all true. He'd admit that readily enough, aloud for all to hear. Especially about Draco belonging to him, and as for taking Draco in the midst of their Father's guests? The thought had crossed his mind several times, and in various awe-inspiring, not-so-innocent positions. Then, Draco's knack for standing out in a crowd. Harry indeed was struggling to control his rising urge to mark the blonde as his own with every lusty look, and brief stolen touch. Either that or kill the various offenders, and he rather doubted his father would go for that. Can't win a war without disposable, mindless minions.

'Perhaps you're right…' Harry conceded after a long moment, his slight amusement echoing down their bond.

'Excuse me? Did I hear you correctly? Harry admitting that someone else has a point for once! Geez, should I call the good doctor over here?'

'Merlin, no! That man is a raving lunatic and a pervert to boot. Besides, I never said I didn't want to fuck you.'

'I'm sure you have at one point or another.'

Harry shook his head, dark curls falling into his eyes. 'No, I never said I didn't want to fuck you. I always asked you why you expected me to fuck you. There is a very specific difference.'

'You and your mind games. Don't try to confuse me, I've had entirely too much to drink. Anyways, do you really want to screw me in public?' A lecherous grin broke over the blonde's face.

'Every time, one of those disgusting pigs touches you. I want to stomp over there like a petulant child, throw you on top of a table and shag you till my bits fall off.'

A shot of arousal spiked through their bond. It prompted a genuine smile from Harry, and a desire to make it happen again. Suddenly, he was overcome with the aching need to make Draco a quivering mess. 'Yes or perhaps the floor. Maybe up against a wall your ass poked out and me behind you-'

It appeared his blatantly honest statement nearly proved too much, because Draco swooned somewhat drunkenly. Crashing into the simpering man at his side who was all too happy too help the boy press his lithe body closer for "support". A growl broke from Harry's throat followed by a deep groan as a white-hot arch of pure lust coursed down the bond. It ran straight from his brain, down his spine, to pool sharply in his groin like liquid fire. Then, it continued to pulse, sending sharp sparks of tingling electricity throughout the previous unaffected areas.

'Two can play that game, you bastard,' Draco growled. Harry watched him right himself, wrenching the unnamed man's hands from his arms, and brushing off his party's concern.

'Hot or cold, Draco. You decide. You wanted to play did you not?' A thin smile passed the twitching boy's lips as he watched the blonde, preparing himself for another attack.

'Harry, remember your shields!' Draco suddenly warned.

Harry heard the shocked gasps echoing around him and from those closest to the doors. He was beginning to glow, his magic crackling around him, dark green laced with the red of lust. The wind was picking up, too, tossing the raven-haired boy's naturally messy hair into further disarray in a rather sexy manner. He felt his eyes dilated as he called the magic to him, and it began to fill him up.

'Don't you want to play, Draco?'

'Harry,' Draco warned poking his lips out. 'You really shouldn't reveal yourself so readily in public. Besides, what if you can't control it?'

'I can. Stop trying to change the subject.' Harry grinned and he chuckle when he saw Draco shiver at his expression. Without warning, Harry sent out a rather wicked, mental image. The blonde's eyes doubled and more of that arousing heat blasted down their bond.

'Merlin, you're a bloody kink. Where'd you learn that?' Harry discerned the slight suspicion laced in his tone.

'You worry too much. Now come hither…'

Draco's latest glass of alcohol crashed to the ground. The blonde ignored the inquiries and his manners, and proceeded to make his way unsteadily over to the veranda. 'What are you going to do with me when I get there?'

'We'll see, Draco. We'll see.' Harry leaned back against the railing listening to the static crackle still surrounding him. He could feel the magic racing to him and he began to breathe heavily. Eyelids drooped lazily over pitch-black eyes. Draco's lack of fear sent a gentle tendril of pleasure through him. It was nice when the blonde could look at him without cringing. Harry wondered if it was the sheer amount of alcohol the blonde had consumed, or deep careless desire.

'Do you want me Draco?' he asked, barely concealing his rising anxiety.

Draco paused at the doors, looking out at him, and met his gaze head on. 'What a silly question. Of course, why wouldn't I?'

Harry smiled. Gracefully, he extended his hand and beckoned the boy closer. 'Come on, Draco.'

Draco moved to stand a scant foot in front of the raven-haired boy. 'Yes Master, what can I do for you?' he purred, lips brushing invitingly across his companion's.

'Hmm…' Harry took note that his magical barriers had merged the second Draco had gotten close enough, and that the magic was swirling madly about them. Onlookers were gathering to watch the spectacle in curious bewilderment. They pointed and glanced around surreptitiously chattering like monkeys in a cage.

Harry brushed it aside the moment Draco leaned his body into his and brushed his lips against his cheek. Something warm and wet, Harry deduced it was Draco's tongue, darted over the sensitive shell over his ear. 'Don't pay them a mind, Harry. It's just you and me.' Grey eyes gazed into Harry's with an expression so pleading and honest, it launched Harry into motion.

His lips crashed down to the blondes, smashing them together. His teeth nipped at Draco's lush lower lip, demanding entrance, which the blonde immediately gave. Tentatively, almost sweetly, he began to taste the blonde's mouth. The sharp light flavor of champagne and the normal mint taste swirling together to create a kiss so overwhelming to Harry that he had to grab onto Draco and hold on for dear life. He pulled the blonde as close as he could get him and proceeded to try to crawl into his mouth. The wet hot touch of Draco's tongue pushed aside all the dark thoughts crowding Harry's mind. There was no war to plan. No rats to recruit. No knowledge to ferret out. No magic to master. Only the age old dance of human flesh against human flesh.

Harry felt the darkness spiraling up and spreading out from his soul. The space between his shoulder blades itched. It felt as though the skin there was bubbling, bones breaking, changing, and trying to push up through the tender layer of muscles and skin. He moaned into the forceful kiss his companion pressed to him unable to pull away. Something was very not right, his mind screamed to him.

He forced his hand into Draco's hair clenching his fist into those fine, silky threads and jerking the blonde away. "Draco," he croaked, smiling crookedly. "Draco, something is happening…"

"Ssshh… Harry. Come here. Don't worry." Draco fell to his knees and threw his arms Harry's waist. He nuzzled his face dangerously close to Harry's rather excited parts. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you." Draco pressed his face to the cloth-covered bulge, and even through the thick layers of clothing his touch elicited tiny pricks of pleasure so sharp they almost hurt.

Harry gasped and clenched his eyes shut. I might not be innocent, but I am a virgin in truth, he thought to himself. The itch between his shoulders intensified as Draco's hot mouth worked over his trousers. Dimly he was aware they were still in view of the entirety of Tom's party, but the strange ache, and more so, Draco's exquisite mouth drove him to distraction. He forgot why he'd begun to push the blonde away.

"Harry," Draco moaned rubbing his cheek against Harry's thigh. 'Merlin, Harry. I want you so bad.'

Harry looked down eyes full of shadows, and black as the night. He relished the startled shiver it stole from the boy in his arms. Power was filling him up, so far up he felt like bursting. Like a butterfly crawling from its chrysalis, he wanted so badly to let the magic take him and make him something more. Of its own accord, his hand reached down to sift through fine silver locks of hair. Draco shifted closer, clutching at Harry. His gaze was frightened, eager, aroused, and full of trust and adoration.

He was pulling Draco to his feet when he felt the first pull of twisted energy forming off to the left of him. His head snapped in the direction he sensed the threat as he flung Draco roughly away. He saw his attacker swirl and snap the wand, followed by a sickening, malevolent, green burst of light. A killing curse, he though grimly. Someone wished him dead in truth.

An angry burst of laughter erupted from his throat. He didn't bother to throw up a shield. Indeed, he turned to face the attack. He heard the horrified gasps and screams from the crowd. Lucius and Tom's voices rose above the rest. He felt rather than heard Draco's heart pounding fitfully as the blonde scrambled about the shields in Harry's mind trying to find some means of communicating. Harry relaxed and let the magic take him. The ball of seething energy hit him dead on throwing him backwards into the air.

Suddenly the pain blossomed, not in his chest but rather in the center of his shoulders where the itch had nagged him. He felt the skin splitting open, the warm rush of blood flowing, bones growing, skin spreading, and mending. He was aware he was still soaring through the air, almost as if time had slowed to a creep. His back ached, and blood still ran the length of it, but there was a new weight to it. He flexed his shoulders bunching the muscles, and felt new ones flex with the gesture. Something was amiss, he thought wryly, coming to an abrupt stop midair.

He felt the raw muscles bunching, and the sharp snap of leather broke through the eerie quiet that had taken his audience. He lifted a bit in the air where he hung gracelessly, before dipping a few inches only to be lifted back again by the bunching of young muscles and the crack of thin leather. Cautiously, he peeked around his shoulder the shock of what laid behind him sent him plummeting to the ground.

He laid there in the silence, thoughts flitting around in his head. A smooth hand that shook came to rest on his shoulder calmed him enough. He looked up to meet the pale eyes of his bond mate. 'Draco?'

'Harry? Are you alright? What was that? Why did you block me from your mind? How am I supposed to protect you when you cripple me in a manner that I may not? What in Merlin's name have you done?'

"Draco," he croaked aloud. "I…" He shook his head and curled onto his side. He ignored the drag of tender flesh, and the scrape of bone along the marble. He shivered as he felt the magic being drained away by Draco. "Draco, tell me what…what is that? Those?"

"Bloody hell, Harry. Those are wings. Big wings."

"But!"

"Boys!" Lucius yelled collapsing on his knees by Draco's side. "What happened Harry?"

"The better question would be, Lucius my dear, who has Harry made an enemy of that they would attack him in our midst? He's never been outside our company, and the select few who comprise our inner circle. I fear we have a traitor amongst us." Voldemort slid into view in a cloud of angry, slightly crazed energy. Sharp red eyes scanned the crowd, leaving a shiver were they passed.

"Did anyone see the attacker?" Draco hissed fingering the shredded cloth at Harry's back.

* * *

No one had, not even Harry who had only a shrouded view and a fuzzy memory. Voldemort called an abrupt end to the party, and servants began filing the shocked partygoers out the front door quickly. Draco himself carried Harry carefully to his room. He was mindful of the recent additions, though he studiously ignored them. Harry couldn't complain as long as the blonde didn't trip on them, scrape them along the walls, or slam them in the door as he kicked it shut.

Tom and Lucius planned to meet them there shortly, but meanwhile Harry tried to settle on the bed without jostling the awkward appendages. They hadn't felt this unbalancing in the air, of course he hadn't really thought about it till he saw them, he grouched to himself. Draco appeared from the bathroom carrying a bowl of water and washcloths.

Settling his load on the bedside table he began to peel the tatter remnant of Harry's shirt from his blood soaked torso. The blood had already coagulated into a dark, sticky mess gluing the torn fabric in back over the sensitive skin surrounding the base of the wings. With gentle fingers Draco worked till most of the cloth was gone, then he picked up a rag and began to wash.

Harry hissed and arched his back away from Draco at the first touch of lukewarm water, wings twitching involuntarily behind him. He felt the leather flap slap his caregiver while its twin knocked aside the water bowl and the candelabra sitting on the bedside. With a disgruntled curse he set to the task of working carefully off of the bed. The wings added weight he was not use to and as he fought to rise the muscles bunched and release in the back. He lifted from the bed and pitched forward as the offending appendages fluttered behind him again smacking the blonde.

"Bloody hell, Harry! That hurts. Can't you stop it?" Draco complained from behind a pillow he snatched up to defend himself.

"If I could control them, do you think I'd be disgracing myself on the floor?" he snapped in return. He lay there pondering his cruel fate. His fingers drumming the floor in his agitation, one wing twitching its mate flapping every now and then, he mulled over the cruelty.

Draco eased to the edge of the bed, pillow held aloft. Harry snorted at the feel of those eyes, and the silent mirth echoing up their bond. "What's so bloody funny?" He glanced over his shoulder in time to see Draco's teeth biting into his pillow. "Nuffink…" A tiny giggle squeaked past the pillow.

"You find this funny, do you?"

Draco shook his head then giggled. Finally, he let go of the cushion and cackled. "You should see yourself! You look like an angry imp. How could I not be amused?"

Harry sighed. "Well, how big would you say they are?"

"Pretty big Harry. Maybe seven, eight feet." Draco moved off the bed and came around to sit at Harry's head. "They look so…strange?"

"Thanks, Draco darling. You are making this situation so much easier to deal with. Some bond-mate you're turning out to be."

"AH! Don't even! You didn't listen to me. I told you to watch your shields but did you? Then, you go and take the bloody killing curse to the chest! What the hell was that about?"

"It felt right. I knew it wouldn't kill me," he answered petulantly.

"Apparently you didn't feel this coming."

"Actually, I think I did. Before, I tried to tell you that something was happening. It felt like the magic was trying to change me. I guess I was resisting, and then I just stopped."

"Why? Why, why, why?"

Harry shrugged and the wings flapped. "It felt good. It wanted to change me, and I wanted to let it. I wanted to see what would happen."

"Merlin, Harry. You are worse than kiddy in a candy shop. Must you always let your curiosity get the best of you?"

Again, he shrugged. "You think they are permanent?"

"I don't know. They sure look like they're here to stay."

"Well, I'll be buggered," he grinned.

Draco returned with a wicked smirk. "You almost were," he whispered leaning in to lick the tip of Harry's nose. "How is it that something or someone always interrupts when I come this close to getting in your pants?"

Harry chuckled and rose carefully to his knees with no mishaps. His wing slid across the floor, coming to rest on either side of him. He looked at them for a moment. Indeed, they were big. The long bone that protruded from his back was thick and hard, yet hollow he knew somehow. Three smaller bones separated from the joint mid ways down the first. They were more flexible, like hard cartilage. The smaller bone closest to his back was the shortest, the next beating it by nearly half a foot, the third by little over a foot so that it protrude further than even the thick bone it grew from. The skin was thin, and strong. Tough, he imagine, as dragon hide. It was almost pitch black save the thin tracery of crimson veins running throughout. He worked his back till they stretched out so far the skin creaked. He had to admit, the were pretty awe-inspiring.

"I suppose its fate's way of saying your not supposed to," he taunted glancing at Draco from the corner of his eye. Draco's mouth actually flapped ineffectually for a moment before he snapped it shut and smack Harry on the rump.

Harry let out an indignant squawk, moving to rub the stinging spot on his buttocks. "What the hell was that for?"

"To the nine hells with fate. I'm a Malfoy. We always get what we want!"

Harry let a genuine smile cross his lips before he burst out laughing. "Malfoy, you are such a prat."

Draco shrugged and drew his fingers down the length of one wing. The motion sent a shiver through the wing and up into Harry's spine. The feeling of it was so intense he actually closed his eyes and moaned. The other wing jumped in agitation seeming to beg for the same treatment.

"Merlin's balls. That could be trouble." Harry shook himself to rid his body of the effect.

Draco had a positively demonic grin growing across his pale features. He reached as to do it again staring at Harry to study the reaction further. His heat from his hand's slow descent was hovering barely above the leathery flesh when Lucius and Tom strode in unannounced.

"Father!" he growled unhappy pout stealing over his pretty lips.

Lucius merely raised his brow as he moved across the large room. He came to a stop at the edge of the bed where he promptly took a seat. He sat with his shoulders slumped and his hands toying nervously about his wrinkled trouser leg. Raising his head he watched a third person sweep into the room and slam the door shut.

Sirius Black remained standing there gaze locked with the elder Malfoy. Anger radiated from him in waves. He shook his head and snarled at no one in particular. Then he turned to Harry relief showing clearly on his face. "Bless you Harry for being so damn hard to kill," he gushed rushing to his knees and embracing him.

Harry cried out at the rough feel of arms sliding under the ridges from which his wings protruded. "Careful Sirius. I've no plan to die. Besides, I suspect it might be a bit harder than ever before."

Sirius, still holding the boys forearms, sat back to look at his godson. His eyes ran the course of the sticky blood that still ran down the front all the way to his stomach. He stopped on each of the small scars inflicted during Harry and Draco's play, and then back up to his face and inevitable the lightning bolt shaped scar. He glanced at Tom as soon as he did. Finally, his scrutinizing gaze made its way to the wings that had raised themselves into the air, as if to fend off the previous attack of his godfather. He sighed and shook his head.

"This was not part of our agreement Lucius," he growled settling cross-legged beside Harry. "You said this last ritual was merely supposed to bind the two boys together so Harry could draw power were he couldn't before."

"Yes, Sirius. I am aware, as is Tom, of our agreement. However, this was not a…foreseeable outcome. Reactions to every spell will vary depending on its individual participants, but such a reaction has never been documented nor told of."

"You could have stopped when you sensed something wasn't right!" Sirius objected vehemently, pounding his fist into his thigh.

"No," Tom interrupted from his position at the fireplace. He walked over till he looked down at Harry, red eyes studying the boy intently. "No, the ritual can only be stopped at the risk of those who started it. Once that first word left Draco's mouth it had to be seen to the end. It is not a forgiving magic that we conjured that night."

Sirius let out another growl, twisting at the waist to glare at the Dark Lord. "You started it not him. You gave him no choice. This is your fault!"

Tom drew himself up, red eyes narrowing. Mouth twisted in an angry smile. "Believe what you will, Black. Ask Harry yourself."

Sirius turned to Harry expectantly.

"It's true, Siri. He gave me a choice to stop before we began the ritual. I swear it to you."

"Then what went wrong!" Sirius bellowed.

Draco looked at all of them, before smiling. "We aren't going to get anywhere unless we look all the way back to when he was a babe. After all, Harry is the only person to ever survive a Killing Curse."

"So?" Sirius muttered. "What's that got to do with this?"

"No, Sirius. Draco's right," Harry frowned gazing at Draco with a new sort of interest. "Surely this all goes back to that night. Why did I survive? What makes me so different? What enabled me to block that curse?"

"Dumbledore surmised it was true love. The love of a mother giving her life for her child," Sirius offered. He shot a defiant gaze to Tom.

"Perhaps it helped, but I'm sure other mother's have died trying to selflessly save their sons, so that should rule that out," Draco mused.

"Yes," Lucius agreed. He rose and went to seat himself close to Harry and Sirius. He reached out and ran a hand through Draco's silvery locks. "So the questions we have to pose ourselves are: What did Harry possess that far back that no one else has previously had? What is it that draws the magic to you so readily, allows you to absorb it for your use, and in turn bestows evolutionary gifts to you?

The magic so many of us have had to train ourselves to comes to you like a long lost lover. It aches for you to use it, that much I have felt both times you have wielded it. It gives you strength to take those you want. It gives you wings to set you free. It gives you protection from enemies unseen. Why?" Lucius ran off rubbing tiredly at his eyes.

"Perhaps we should try the easier riddle first," Draco suggested leaning into his father's shoulder. "Who wants Harry dead badly enough to brave a party thrown by our Dark Lord and attended by a mass of Deatheaters and Ministry officials?"

Tom hissed angrily and began to pace robes swirling about him. "Yes, which of my children betrays me in this vilest manner?"

"Who all knows that Harry is the Potter's son?"

"Who bloody knows? How many of those parties of yours has he attended? The meetings? You never changed his name! Hell, he looks the spitting image of his father now!" Sirius glared again at the retreating back of Voldemort.

"Ah, but it is my jest! Surely you have heard as such?" Tom laughed. "All knew I had Lily even before James took her. Besides, he also looks quite similar to me at his age."

Lucius nodded. "Yes. Many believe Harry is Voldemort and my own cruel stab at the Potter's fate. Few know that he is indeed The Boy That Lived. Although, certainly after tonight a great deal more will believe-" Lucius ran off abruptly. A thought so staggering in its weight darkened his face.

"Merlin!" Draco too seemed to pick up his father's thoughts.

One by one they realized the consequences of Harry's actions tonight. The truth was out, and none of them could rectify the errors that had occurred this night at the party. Everyone at that party that had not believed the rumors of Harry's identity now knew the truth of it, and considering the sheer number of Ministry officials that had attend that night, soon London, then all of Europe would.

"Too long we have been careless and indiscriminate in revealing you to the public. Now we have forced our own hand," Lucius chuckled mirthlessly. "They will come in haste, hoping to catch us before we realize our mistakes."

"Then you have to send him somewhere safe that they cannot find him!" Sirius snapped. He stood abruptly. "Where can we send him that cannot be traced to either Voldemort, you, or the Deatheaters?"

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. This was all too much. It was too early in his father's careful planning to make an offensive move. There was still much his father wished to train him, much he needed to know about the art of doing war. Then, there was the matter of Draco. Draco was smart and quick, but he could not sense the threat as Harry could, he could not pull the magic from the energy surrounding him to keep him safe. He need the training even more so. He rose and stretched his back banging a wing into the thick post of the bed. He winced and the wing pulled itself from harm by the grace of instinct along.

That was another matter. He did not know how to use this so-called gift. He most certainly did not want to have to rely on instinct alone to get him by. He would be weighed down by them if he could not wield them by whim in battle. Harry grasped the edge of his wing rubbing his fingers over the flesh, pleasantly surprised to find that it was smooth and butter soft despite the rough textured look. Yes it was too early to declare war. So hiding would have to do.

"We must separate then," Lucius nodded resolutely. "Harry and Draco, go gather some plain clothing, nothing showy. Make it winter wear I think. I'll send Sirius to you shortly. Come Tom, we must get you away now. They will not kill Harry on site knowing who he is. I shudder to think what they fling at you in your weakened state."

Tom nodded and went to Harry quickly, gathering him in a fierce hug yet mindful of the wings. "Go and be safe Harry. I will come for you myself when the time comes at hand." With that said he turned and was gone. Lucius followed closing the door quietly behind him. Draco rushed off through the opened door that joined their rooms.

Sirius gave Harry a small nod and left him to his packing; while he remained sitting on the floor watching as Harry bustled about slinging clothes into a large dragon hide pack. Other than a few choice outfits he picked up a book of short stories he'd recently begun to read and his black-bound leather diary. He was tucking his wand into his sleeve when Draco reappeared with Lucius on his heels.

"Is that it then?" Sirius asked looking up at the elder Malfoy.

Lucius nodded solemnly. "Yes, I've sent word ahead of your arrival. When you get to the train station an elderly couple will approach you. They will ask you "How you fell from heaven" to which you will state "It came to me".

Harry snorted and rolled his eyes. "It came to me" Got it." He suppressed the urge to laugh because it truly was no laughing matter. "So, are they to take care of us?"

"No," Lucius sighed rubbing his temple. "They will check on you and bring you supplies and instructions from Tom. You will be staying at a cabin alone-"

"What!" Draco screeched. "How the bloody hell are we going to live alone? What if someone were to attack us? How will we eat? Who is to clean?" he ranted.

"Draco! Be quite! This is no time to think about the luxuries you have for so long taken advantage of. I'm not sure where exactly you will be staying only that it is somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains."

"Bloody hell, we'll be eaten by werewolves." Draco moaned pitifully and tossed himself onto the gigantic silk covered four poster. He rubbed his cheek against the comforter, dug his head into plush pillow, and writhed his body till he was sunk in the down mattress. "I'll miss you my beloved," he murmured to it piteously.

"For Merlin's sake Draco. We will be in a cabin…alone," Harry stressed.

Draco's head shot off the bed. "Alone…," he breathed. He rolled over and landed on his feet grabbing his pack and Harry's simultaneously. "Well, let's move along then," he beamed. "The Ministry will not wait till we depart. Best leave while we can."

The other three rolled their eyes and groaned. Lucius finished filling them in. Afterwards, they said their emotionally goodbyes and then the two were on their way to their secluded retreat somewhere in the mountains of Europe. Draco remained cheerfully despite the glamour that made him appear rather shabby, the entire bumpy ride to the railway station.

* * *

Whew, I thought it would never end. This chapter was by far the most detailed one yet. I am attempting to get to the war. For the mean time though, I wanted to have some fun. Perhaps in the next chapter Draco may finally get his way. Thanks to those of you that kept me going. I love you LaLa! Mel says 'Hiyu!' Oh yeah! Let me know if you liked it. If you didn't tell me what you thought was wrong! It won't get better without good advice! Review!

The next chapter may also take a while. It should be a more relaxing piece, just Harry and Draco laying low, but I need to brush up on the Carpathian Mountains and Romania.


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